


Nighttime Magic

by myshipsaresunk



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Closure, Dealing with grief together, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Plot Twists, Sad, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myshipsaresunk/pseuds/myshipsaresunk
Summary: Julie is just trying to get home after finding herself out in the city late at night. She isn't expecting to meet a cute guy on the bus who seems to understand her better than anyone else she's ever met. She isn't expecting to hit it off with him immediately. She isn't expecting to feel so strongly about a person she's just met.She definitely isn't expecting to find long-awaited closure over her mom's death or to help him come to terms with his own biggest regret.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All rights belong to the creators and writers of Julie and the Phantoms (2020). I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made.
> 
> Rating: G
> 
> Author's Note: The myshipsaresunk's law of ficwriting is that for every happy fic written, there must be an equal number of tragic ones. And when it comes to a show about ghosts and humans, there's plenty of ways to make it sad. So here is yet another bittersweet Juke fic that I hate that I wrote. This is partially inspired by the tumblr post I saw about how there are parts of New Orleans where taxi drivers won't go late after night because of the high number of ghost incidents. This is a one-shot, although I couldn't decide how I wanted to end it so there's a bonus chapter with an epilogue of sorts

**Nighttime Magic**

There’s something magical about nighttime in the city. With the fall of darkness draping over the backdrop like a heavy blanket comes a mystical aura punctuated by the sparkling stars and the silvery allure of the moon. The air is crisper, the breeze a sharp edge cutting through the comfort of the day and the temperature sinking past the skin and muscles and straight through the bones.

Yes, Julie could wax on and on about the fantasy that is cities at night. She has so many fond memories of walking the lamp-lit streets, her hands kept warm by the larger ones holding onto them or a cup of steaming chocolate cradled between. There’s something special about the way the soft yellow lights push back the pressing shadows and extend the day past its natural cycle. There’s a quietness that comes with the night, borne from centuries of fear of what hides in the shadows. And there’s something wonderful about how humans continually defy their instincts and seek to control the world around them.

But Julie isn’t thinking too much about those wonders at this present moment. Right now, she has her phone held out in front of her, following her maps app as it leads her to the bus station and sending out quick glances around her. The magic of the night is overshadowed by her fear of being in a foreign city alone after dark.

Funny how man can kill magic so easily.

It’s really Julie’s fault that she’s in this position now. She flew across the country on a weekend trip to visit one of her mom’s old friends who just opened up a jazz club in New Orleans. Due to the time change, she arrived at noon and had some free time to explore the city. The opening night isn’t until tomorrow, so Julie didn’t bother to watch the time. She walked around the city before finding a cute little hole-in-the-wall restaurant to eat dinner in. She’d brought her laptop with her and gotten caught up in some college work, not even noticing how the sky darkened outside. It wasn’t until the kind waitress had gently let her know that they were closing that Julie realized it was midnight.

She shoved her laptop in her bag, left a generous tip, and googled the nearest bus station. Her wanderings in the city had brought her over an hour away from Talia’s place, but fortunately there’s a bus connection that will drop her off only a few blocks away. Julie had tried to get a taxi, but there are no taxi connections in this part of the city at this hour of the night. Julie isn’t sure whether to be worried or curious.

Julie makes it to the bus stop without incident. It isn’t much of a bus stop, she notices, just a bench with a plastic overhang. The plastic was once clear, but years of precipitation has fogged it up and messy graffiti covers nearly every available surface space. 

Julie’s heart pounds in her chest. She’s not weak or easily scared by any means, but she’s lived in LA long enough to know when she’s in a bad part of a city. The shadows around her seem to shift and bend, though she knows it’s probably her imagination. There aren’t many lamplights, and all the stores around her are closed and shuttered with metal bars for the night. Someone walks on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, shuffling at a quick pace and blowing out smoke from a glowing cigarette. She hears the patter of little paws on the ground in the alley behind the bus stop and the rustling of plastic - a racoon, most likely, or perhaps a stray cat. Either way, Julie doesn’t want to meet it.

In one hand she clutches her phone tightly, 911 already dialed. In her other hand she holds tightly onto her pepper spray. 

The lamp closest to her flickers. She jumps, her phone tumbling out of her sweaty palm. She quickly crouches down to snatch it up. When she stands, the lamp shuts off completely, leaving her surroundings illuminated dimly by the glowing red closed signs from the shops behind her.

She hears a noise and steps away from the bus stop, trying to fade into the shadows. A few seconds later, a pair of headlights turns around the block, shining her way. The engine coughs like it’s dying, but Julie has never been more relieved to see a city bus.

As it pulls up to the curb, Julie can see that it’s a dark gray color, the windows tainted dark and smudged with dirt. The brakes squeal. In the day, Julie would never dream of getting on it; but when the doors hiss open and light spills out, she doesn’t hesitate to run up the steps.

Julie pauses in front of the bus driver, her hand reaching in her pocket for the $5 bill she’d stuck in there for her fare. She freezes when she makes eye contact with the man. His eyes are so dark brown that they’re nearly black, and peering into them is like peering into a dark abyss. It gives Julie the chills. His outfit is no less weird - instead of the normal colored or buttoned-up shirt and jeans she’s used to seeing bus drivers wear, he’s dressed in a black suit with a black tie and a silver tie clip with a little skull grinning out at her. 

Her eyes drift back up to his face. As scary as that block was, Julie is half-tempted to turn back. Before she can flee, she reaches out her hand and offers the $5.

“No need, dear,” the man says, his voice deep and calm. “Please, just take a seat. I’ll get you safely to your destination.”

Julie is more than a little freaked by his strange wording. She hesitates, debating whether she should take her chances on foot. But when she glances into the bus, she sees that it’s full of people. Sure, some of the interior lights are broken and it’s as grungy and dim as the outside, but nothing bad is going to happen to her when she’s surrounded by this many people. Safety in numbers, right?

She pushes her hand back in her pocket and wades through the aisleway, searching for an empty seat. She tries not to make eye contact with anyone, knowing that while she may be safe while on the bus, there’s no guarantee someone won’t get off at her stop just to stalk her before she can reach her final destination. She doesn’t need to attract any more attention than necessary.

Julie finds it hard to believe the bus is so full this late at night. It’s mostly adults, but there are a few children as well. Some of them are sitting with adults but some are also sitting together. Julie assumes their parents must simply be in another section of the bus. She’s a young adult but she’s pretty nervous; she can’t imagine being a child on this bus alone.

Although the passengers are bundled up against the chilly interior of the bus - seriously, Julie is sure that the temperature must have dropped at least 10 degrees since she stepped inside - she can see hints of skin here and there as she passes. It must be really cold because everyone’s skin is pale, sometimes even purple. 

Some of the people have bruises and open wounds. Julie wonders if there was a fight somewhere, or if they’re just too drunk to notice they’re injured. She pulls her jacket tighter around her and trains her eyes on the ground, looking for a seat in her peripheral vision.

She’s nearly to the back of the bus when she finds a seat. She looks over at the person she’ll have to sit with, making sure they aren’t some creep. To her relief, it’s a guy around her age, a gray beanie covering a head that rests against the window and a guitar case shoved against the wall by his feet. He’s bobbing his head up and down slightly to rock music that she can just hear coming from the headphones he has over his ears.

Julie slips into the seat, keeping a respectful distance between them. She clutches her laptop bag in her lap. The bus lurches slightly as the driver begins driving off. Julie quickly grows uncomfortable with the heavy quietness that has fallen over the bus. There are a few hushed conversations here and there, but not many. Julie knows it’s late at night and most people are tired, but that does nothing to levitate her disquiet. Without realizing it, she bounces her knee up and down.

“Hey.”

She nearly jumps out of her skin at the sound of the voice. She turns to see the guy she’s sitting next to facing her, his headphones now around his neck.

She clutches at her chest, cursing her jumpiness. She’s shocked her heart hasn’t burst right out of her chest. She can’t remember the last time she was so anxious.

“Sorry.” His lips quirk up in a small smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay.” Julie takes a few deep breaths. “I’m just a little on edge.”

“I can’t blame you for that.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old gray device. It takes Julie a moment to identify it as a walkman. He hits a button and the faint music sounds stop. She can’t help but watch in fascination as he pulls out his headphones and winds them around. He must be one of those hipsters that are obsessed with vintage things. Julie’s heard of them in California, but she’s never met one so dedicated. Most of the time they just go around saying that they were born in the wrong generation and have a record player with some basic Queen and Beatles albums while being addicted to their iPhones.

“I’m Luke, by the way.” He sets his walkman in the small bag at his feet.

“Julie.” She doesn’t think he’s a threat, but she still keeps her hands shoved deep into her pockets. “You’re a musician?” 

His jaw drops. “How did you know?”

She motions with a nod at his guitar case. “Kind of gave it away.”

“Right.” He smiles sheepishly. “I forgot I had that. Yeah, I’m in a band. It’s called Sunset Curve. Have you ever heard of it?”

Julie presses her lips together and shakes her head. “No. But I’m not from the area.”

“Really? Where are you from?”

She isn’t sure she should be telling a stranger any personal information, but she doesn’t get any bad vibes from him. Besides, she’s not telling him anything that would endanger her.

“Born and raised in Los Angeles.”

His smile widens, revealing pearly white teeth. “No way! I’m from LA, too!”

“So what are you doing out here in New Orleans?”

He reaches over and pats his guitar case. “My band was on tour. We got our first big break a few months ago when we headlined the Orpheum. Sold out show.”

Julie’s eyebrows raise. “That’s impressive. My mom used to work there, as part of the set crew. Getting to play there isn’t easy.”

“It took us years,” Luke agrees. “Ooh, maybe your mom met us.”

Julie shakes her head. “She worked there as a teen. It would have been years ago.”

“That’s too bad.” A short silence falls between them before Luke says, “So, what brought you here?”

“Visiting an old family friend.” A sudden shiver runs through her, and she huddles in tighter around herself. “Okay, is it just me or is it freezing in here? I thought Louisiana was supposed to be warm.”

“This bus is freezing. I wonder if it’s supposed to help with the smell.” Luke sniffs at the air and then shrugs, leaning back against the seat. 

There is a faint unpleasant smell in the air, though Julie is sure that it would be much more pronounced when exposed to the warm, humid air New Orleans is known for. Suddenly she doesn’t mind the occasion shivers anymore.

“So, your band was playing here?” Julie prompts. Normally she isn’t talkative with strangers, but there’s something about Luke that makes it so easy to talk. Besides, she has a long bus ride ahead of her, and conversing with him is a good distraction from the tense situation. She feels safe around him - though that’s probably just because he’s a guy and as long as she’s with him, no other creeps will try anything. Strange how men respect women who appear to belong to other men.

“Yeah. It was a great concert. We were still building up a fanbase here, so almost no one had heard of us before, but we sold a lot of demos and T-shirts. Had a lot of people ask for autographs.”

“You have any demos on you?” Julie asks.

Luke grins before reaching into his guitar case and pulling out a CD case. “Hang onto this,” he says, holding her gaze before handing it to her. “It’s my last one, and I doubt you’ll ever find another one.”

Because CDs are so outdated? Julie wants to ask, but she accepts it without a word. She turns it over, glancing at the tracklist before opening it up and pulling out the sleeve.

She pauses on the picture of the band. There are four guys - Luke, wearing a cut-off shirt that shows off well-defined biceps (which are currently hidden under his oversized flannel), a dark-haired guy with a black leather jacket, a blond guy with drumsticks in his hands, and another dark-haired guy wearing a black and white striped shirt with a sleeveless leather vest. They give off major nineties boy-band vibes, which Julie admits fits well with his vintage image.

She reads the short bios above the picture. “Huh. You’re the lead singer and guitarist.” She glances over at him. He’s watching her, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah. And the main songwriter, too.”

“Now you’re just bragging,” she teases.

“Maybe a little,” he agrees.

Her eyes jump back to the band picture. There’s something about the last boy that looks familiar, though she can’t place exactly what it is.

“Who’s this?” she asks, tilting the paper for him to see.

“That’s Bobby, our rhythm guitarist. Why?”

She frowns, tapping her finger against his picture. “He kinda looks familiar. But I can’t place where I might have seen him before.”

“He was in LA with us. Maybe you ran into him once.”

“Maybe.” Julie stares at it again. She feels like the answer is on the tip of her tongue, just out of reach. She tries to think of it for another minute before giving up. Either it’ll come to her or it won’t.

She flips quickly through the lyrics. “So, you guys are a rock band?”

“Yeah. You listen to rock?”

“I do, yeah. My mom was in a few rock bands back in her day.” Julie slips the sleeve back in the case and flashes it at him. “Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.”

“No problem.” Luke sighs slightly and looks out the window at the lights passing by. “It’s not like I was saving it for anyone else.”

“Don’t jinx yourself. The next person to sit by you on the bus could be a manager for a major record deal.”

It’s meant to be a joke, but for some reason Luke just looks sad. The outside lights reflect in his hazel eyes. Julie watches him for a moment. She knows the look on his face. She’s seen it on her face, on her dad’s face, on her brother’s face. She’s seen it far too often.

It’s the look of someone who has lost something they hold dear.

“Is everything okay?” she asks. She almost reaches out but then stops herself. She doesn’t know him well enough to be comfortable with that.

“Not really, no.” He doesn’t tear his eyes away from the window. “I just can’t believe it’s over. It happened so fast. There were so many things I meant to do, so many things I had to say - and now I’ll never get the chance. I’ll never - ” His voice catches. “I’ll never get to see her again.”

Julie doesn’t know exactly what or who he’s talking about, but she understands the sentiment well enough. She spent months in his exact position, shouting or whispering or crying out to the universe, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer but having to try anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching up and rubbing at his eyes. “I didn’t mean to lay that on you. It just - it just hits me at random times. I think I’m okay, but then suddenly I’m not.”

“I understand.” Now she’s the one unable to look at him. She stares at the back of the seat. Words that she’s had locked away in her mind for far too long spill out. “My mom - she’s still constantly on my mind. Everyone told me it would get better with time, but my grief hasn’t worked like that. Some days it’s better and some days it’s unbearable.”

“What was it?” Luke asks quietly.

“Cancer.” The word is nearly a whisper coming out of her mouth.

“I can’t decide if you’re more or less fortunate,” he says. Julie glances sharply over at him. “One hand, you had to suffer for a long time. A slow, painful death. But on the other hand, you had time to make things right. You could make amends before the end.”

Julie feels her eyes watering. “It wasn’t enough time. Twenty years wouldn’t have been enough time. There’s still so much I had to say.”

“It’s never enough time,” Luke agrees. “But some of us didn’t even get to say goodbye. Some of us - ” He cuts off sharply. It’s a few seconds before he can continue. “Some of us left on bad terms.”

As awful as it was to watch her mother slowly fade away, Julie would never trade it for a quick death. No matter how selfish that sounds. Julie cherished every moment she had with her mom, and she’s sure her mother felt the same way. She’d rather see her mom suffer than have to live with herself if she hadn't been on good terms. If her mom’s death haunts her now, she can’t imagine how heavy the burden could be under different circumstances.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

Luke swallows hard. His fingers twist together in his lap. “My mom - she loved me unconditionally. I wasn’t an easy child - I have ADHD and I had no interest in school or following rules that I didn’t understand. She stuck with me through it all. Even my dad left when I was a kid, but she was there for me. My stepdad, Mitch, was a great guy who adopted me. For a few years, we were a happy family.” He pauses, his fingers curling up into fists. “They never understood my love for music. They thought it was a waste of time. They tolerated it until my band got serious. The last straw came when I dropped out of high school to play music full time. They thought I was destroying my future. My mom and I got into a huge fight. I said things I didn’t mean, grabbed whatever could fit in my backpack, and ran away.”

“And you never saw her again,” Julie finishes quietly. 

“I saw her, but I never spoke to her. I used to sneak up to the house and just watch through the windows. They always looked so sad. I was miserable. But my pride kept me from knocking on the door and apologizing.” Luke shakes his head. “I was so stupid. I wasted precious time.”

He leans back against his seat, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling. There’s a tear hanging on the edge of his jaw. Julie stares as the water droplet catches the dim lights of the bus and sparkles in the dark.

“You know what’s the worst part?” Luke asks, his voice bitter. “I left on Christmas Eve. I ruined the holidays for them forever.”

“The holidays would be ruined, anyway.” Julie sniffs and wipes at her eyes. Normally crying in front of strangers would be humiliating, but there’s something about sharing pain that makes being vulnerable comforting instead of shameful. She’s never met someone who understood her suffering so well. Even her dad and brother had a completely different experience than her.

“I always loved looking at Christmas lights.” Luke’s eyes are once again staring out into the darkness. Julie leans over, also looking out. They pass through the middle of the city, which is strangely uncrowded, even despite the hour. The entire city of New Orleans is strung up with lights and wreaths and trees. In the warm lamplight and against the backdrop of stars, it looks beautiful. Julie hadn’t noticed it as much earlier in the day, but now she’s awed by the beauty. “My bandmates and I were homeless when we first started out. We got by by sleeping on our fans’ couches most nights, but sometimes we would just wander the streets at night. It was a little joy in the middle of a hard time.”

“My mom loved Christmas lights, too.” When Julie blinks, tears slip down her cheeks. “She always used to make my dad take us for rides around certain neighborhoods that would go all out. We’d just drive for hours watching the lights. She’d press her hands and face right up against the window. We always used to tease her about it.”

“It’s the little things I miss the most.” Luke sighs, his breath fogging up the glass. “There was so much magic in the mundane that no one ever notices until it’s gone.”

She stares at him, unable to tear her eyes away. When he talks, it’s like he’s pulling out her tangled thoughts and putting them into words. Either he can read her mind or he just thinks the same things she does. She’s never met someone who she felt such so in tune with.

Her heart clenches in her chest, tight enough to ache. How is it possible to connect to someone so deeply and personally in such a short time under such strange circumstances?

Luke turns her way and catches her staring. For some reason, Julie isn’t embarrassed. She doesn’t look away.

“What is it?” he asks, his eyebrows pulling together.

“Have you ever felt like you were met to meet someone before?” Julie asks, not bothering to be subtle. She’s not sure what aides her courage - the fact that this all feels like it’s happening in some strange, other dimension, perhaps, or that if she messes things up she can disappear and never see him again, or the strong feeling of harmony in her heart. “Like...God or the universe brought you together?”

He half smiles, one side of his lip curling up in a gesture that makes her heart flip. His eyes drop slightly, but not before Julie sees the agreement in them. Whatever it is between them, he feels it too.

“What’s your biggest regret?” he asks, turning to face her and leaning his back against the window.

She can’t help but let out a short burst of laughter. “What kind of question is that?”

He shrugs. “I told you mine already. It’s only fair you share yours.”

Julie shakes her head, but she still finds herself searching through her memories. A few things pop up, but one sticks out more than the others. It’s a guilt that’s been eating away at her for a long time. She’s been trying to ignore it, without much success.

“I quit playing music,” she says, looking down at her lap. “Music was so important to me. It connected me to my mom, to my best friends...and I gave it all up because I didn’t want to deal with the grief that came with it. I thought I could just ignore the pain. All it did was fester and become worse.”

She finally raises her eyes to his. He’s looking at her with an expression that’s part sadness and part understanding.

“Music was the only thing that got me through my pain. But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt like hell some days.” He reaches into the front pocket of his guitar case and pulls out a notebook. He opens up the cover and pulls out a folded song. “I wrote this for my mom. The band learned it, but we didn’t have a chance to record it. And honestly, I’m not sure I could have ever recorded it. It’s so personal.”

He hesitates and then passes it to her. They’ve opened up so much to each other tonight that Julie isn’t even surprised by the gesture. She pulls open the folds and reads over the lyrics.

“This is beautiful.” She looks up at him. “You should have given this to her.”

“I know. It’s amazing all the things you realize you should have done when it’s too late.”

She watches him again. Julie’s had crushes before, she’s spent a fair amount of time staring at pretty people, but it all pales in comparison to what she feels now. The connection she feels to him goes so much deeper than just a crush. She feels like she’s known him for years, not hours. If souls had shapes and colors, theirs would be matching pairs.

He’s so beautiful. Julie has never thought of a guy as beautiful before, but that’s the only word that pops into her mind as she stares at him. The sadness etched into his features gives him the appearance of a tragic Greek hero. Maybe Theseus, who put up the wrong color sails when returned home and accidentally led to his father committing suicide, would be fitting.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” she says. His eyes flicker to her, not full of hope like she expected but full of sorrow.

“Not too late?” he repeats.

“Go back to LA,” she urges. “Find your mom - wherever she is. If she’s alive, just knock on her door. If she’s not, you can talk to her anyway. I talked to my mom for weeks after her death. I don’t know if she heard, but it still helped.”

Luke stares at her. “That’s not how this works,” he says. “I can’t just go to LA.”

“Why not?”

His eyebrows pull together again. His eyes search hers. She meets them with an even gaze, and eventually his light up in comprehension.

He leans back. “You don’t know,” he says, sounding shocked.

“Don’t know what?”

Luke makes a wide motion with his arms. “What this bus is.”

Julie gives him a strange look. “It’s a city bus.”

“What city bus is this full at midnight?” Luke asks. “Look around.”

Julie has grown comfortable in the little bubble of their seat, but Luke is starting to freak her out, so she does as he asks. Her eyes have adjusted to the dim lighting and she looks around clearly for the first time since getting on the bus.

The first thing she notices about the other passengers is their clothes. Many of them are dressed strangely, wearing attire that seems out of time. It’s not completely unusual for a large city, but it is strange for so many of them to have outdated outfits.

The second thing Julie notices is the injuries. She had glimpsed bruises and some blood when she first got on, but she hadn’t seen the truth. Now it’s glaringly obvious: gaping holes dripping blood, large gashes, twisted limbs, burned flesh, half-smashed faces.

Julie’s heart races as she looks around until she’s nearly hyperventilating. She turns to Luke, her lips parted by no sound coming out.

He gives her a sympathetic look. “It’s okay, Julie. No one’s going to hurt you. I doubt anyone noticed you, anyway. Everyone’s too focused on themselves.”

“I’m on a zombie bus,” Julie finally manages to spit out.

“Not zombies. Ghosts.”

Julie shakes her head. “I don’t get it. This is some sort of prank, right? Or maybe a weird dream.” She pinches her arm. “I’m ready to wake up, now.”

“This is real. I know, it’s hard to believe at first. Took me a while to get used to it, too. I didn’t believe in ghosts before.”

Julie is freaking out, but that strange safe feeling she has around Luke calms her down a bit. She takes a deep breath. “Okay. Pretending that this is really happening, can you explain why there’s a ghost bus?”

“It’s for spirits who still have unfinished business. Some of the ghosts here are waiting for people. Some have to learn to come to terms with something that happened in their life.”

“And what if they can’t?”

Luke shrugs. “Then they stay here forever. Those who accept their death get to move on.”

“But what about us?”

“What about us?”

“We’re not dead.”

Luke’s lips press together in a tight line. “We are, Julie. We wouldn’t be on the bus if we weren’t. The living can’t see us.”

Julie shakes her head. “I’m not dead. I was just trying to catch a bus to my friend’s place. And you don’t have any injuries.”

“Not everyone has a violent death.” Luke fingers the bead bracelets on his wrist. For the first time since she’s met him, he seems unsure of himself.

“Wait. You’re actually dead.”

He doesn’t look up. “Yeah. It was so stupid, too. Food poisoning.”

“But you’re so…” Young. The word dies on her lip. She thinks of the children on the bus. Some of them were alone. She wonders how long they’ve been stuck on the bus. She wonders if they’ll ever be able to leave.

Her eyes and her thoughts turn back to Luke. This time, she sees him in a completely different light. All that talk about how it was too late for him to make amends - he wasn’t exaggerating. It’s literally too late.

He doesn’t exist anymore.

Julie thinks about the walkman she saw him using. She had thought it was just him being into vintage stuff at first, but now a horrible thought occurs to her.

“Luke...how long have you been stuck here?”

“Twenty five years.”

Julie shakes her head. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. She didn’t die! She’s still alive. If she was dead, why did she feel the pain from pinching herself? She’s pretty sure she would have remembered if she died. It seems like something that would be traumatic.

She doesn’t understand it, but for some strange reason, it doesn’t feel wrong. Julie feels like she’s meant to be here. For what purpose, though, she’s not sure.

“Of course this would happen to me,” she mumbles, crossing her arms. “The one person I have a legitimate connection with is a dead guy.”

“I’m still not entirely sure you’re not dead yourself,” Luke shoots back. “You said your biggest regret was that you quit music. Maybe you died and that’s your unfinished business.”

“I didn’t die,” Julie repeats. “I’m confident about that. If I was dead, nothing could get between me and my mom.”

They fall into silence for a few minutes, both of them thinking it over. Julie’s mind drifts to what Luke told her about himself. She begins putting it in the proper context. A mystery from earlier falls into place.

“I remember!” She sits up quickly. “Your rhythm guitarist, the one I recognized.”

“Bobby?”

“Yes! I know him - but I know him like he is now. As a middle aged guy. He goes by the name of Trevor Wilson.”

“How is he?”

“Good, I think. He has a daughter my age, who he loves a lot. He’s a really famous musician - triple platinum famous. He always seems kind of sad, though.”

“Can’t blame him. I wasn’t the only who died. Alex and Reggie - our band’s drummer and bassist - died at the same time I did. We left Bobby all alone.”

Julie would be shocked if so many other shocking things hadn’t already happened tonight. At this point, she just accepts it. Why not? It might as well happen.

“Where are Alex and Reggie?”

“They figured out their unfinished business and left years ago. It’s just me now.”

He sounds so sad. Julie doesn’t know what to say. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. It’s been an hour since she got on the bus. When she checks her google maps, she sees that the dot representing her is almost to her stop. She has no idea if it’s accurate or if she’ll be able to get off - there are a lot of unknowns when dealing with the supernatural - but assuming that she can get off, she doesn’t have much longer here.

She doesn’t have much time to figure out why the bus stopped for her or why she can see the ghosts.

Julie tries to order what she does know into a flowchart in her mind. Maybe she can follow the path to the answer.

On one side, she has her connection to the world of death - through her mother. On the other side, she has her connection to Luke - through Trevor Wilson. Somehow those two sides connect.

She brings to mind everything Luke told her, replaying their conversation in her mind.

“Oh,” she finally says, the solution so obvious she can’t believe she didn’t see it before.

“What?”

“I figured it out.” 

Luke stares at her. “You don’t sound very excited.”

Julie can’t lie and say that she is. Part of her had hoped that this could end with her somehow connecting to her mother again. But Julie should be glad that her mother isn’t on this bus. It means she’s crossed over. She won’t be a sad, broken down soul waiting in limbo for decades.

She’s also sad because she had thought the connection between her and Luke meant something. And it does, but not the thing she secretly hoped it could mean.

“I think my mom sent me,” she says. “My mom worked at the Orpheum around the time you guys would have played there and she was always good friends with Trevor. Somehow she knows about you being stuck here.”

“But she doesn’t know me personally. At least, not well enough that I remember her.”

Julie shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. She’s not doing it for you - at least, not just for you.” She takes a deep breath. “She probably did it in part for Trevor, a favor for an old friend. But mostly, I think she did it for me.”

“For you?” Luke frowns.

Julie takes a deep breath. “We have so much in common. You’re the first person I’ve been able to openly confide in about my grief from her death. For the past year, I’ve been stuck in this limbo, unable to move on. I couldn’t even talk to my best friend about this. But with you…” She shrugs. “We have a connection.”

“And somehow your mom knew that we’d have one?” Luke looks away. “No offense, Julie, but that sounds just a little far-fetched to me.”

“I don’t know if she knew that much, but maybe she knew we could help each other. Talking to you about all this has lifted a huge weight off my chest. Maybe talking to me is the thing you need to move on.”

“Then why am I still here?” Luke asks.

Julie doesn’t have an answer for him.

“It’s a good theory,” he says after a moment. “And if you feel better, then I’m glad I was able to help. But I’ve already told you. It’s too late for me. I had so many opportunities to make things right with my parents when I was alive and I didn’t. I deserve this.”

“No, you don’t.” Julie’s hand balls up in a fist as she tries to suppress her frustration at him. Doesn’t he see that blaming himself is just making things worse? As long as he’s caught in this cycle of guilt, he’ll never cross over.

Something crinkles in her lap as her fingers move. She realizes she’s still holding into the song that he wrote for his mom.

“Wait. I can help you.” She holds the letter up. “This is why I’m here.”

“For my song?”

“I’m here to deliver it to your parents. So you can make amends and cross over.”

Luke stares at the folded sheet of paper in her hand. Then his eyes drift to hers. For the first time since she’s met him, she sees hope alight inside.

“You...you would do that?”

Julie smiles sadly. “Of course.”

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say.” His eyes fill with tears and he stares at her like she’s the sun itself. The connection between them flares, growing stronger and tighter than ever. Julie can’t believe something so strong could ever be so quickly forged and be designed to last for such a short time.

She’s more than aware of the bus slowing down. Her stop is coming up. It’s time for her to leave.

“Just promise me you’ll move on.” The emotion catches in her throat and she tries for a teasing tone. “I don’t want my mom to have to drag me onto a bus of dead people again.”

“I promise.” 

Luke reaches out with a hand. Julie feels her entire body still. There’s so much light and life between them that she can’t fathom that he’s dead. How is it possible? How can someone who doesn’t exist be so real?

How could Julie have fallen for a phantom?

She holds her breath as he reaches out to cup the side of her face. She isn’t sure what she’s expecting to happen, but there’s no masking the surge of disappointment when his hand phases right through her skin.

He’s just air, after all.

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks.

“Of course, Julie. Anything.”

“If you see my mom, after you cross over…” She pauses. “Can you tell her I love her? And thank her, for sending me to you?”

He nods. She feels like a huge weight has been lifted off her chest. She holds up his song. “This is the first time I do when I get back to LA. I promise.”

Luke nods. “Thank you, Julie.”

“The second thing I’m going to do is listen to this.” She pulls out the Sunset Curve CD he’d given her. “And the third thing I’m going to do is start playing music again.”

A ghost of a smile dances along his lips, but it’s bittersweet. “No regrets.”

“No regrets,” she agrees.

The bus grinds to a halt. Julie looks out the window to see that it’s her stop. As terrifying as it is to be on a bus full of ghosts, she suddenly doesn’t want to leave. She could just stay here forever, talking to Luke. It doesn’t matter that they can’t touch. It doesn’t matter that this bus doesn’t really exist. It doesn’t matter that she’s alive and he’s not.

All that matters is that they could be together. Julie never believed in the concept of soulmates, but after feeling the way she does about Luke after such a short time, she knows deep down in her heart that they were each other’s. Separated by time and reality, but still soulmates.

Julie stands, trying to blink away her tears. She doesn’t know what happens when ghosts cross over, but if they have memories, she doesn’t want his last memory of her to be a sobbing mess. She pulls herself together and manages a smile.

“Goodbye, Luke.”

“Goodbye, Julie.”

She forces herself to turn away from him before she changes her mind. She strides down the narrow bus aisle, trying not to pay attention to the lost souls. As Luke had said, they aren’t even paying attention to her.

The bus driver gives her a simple nod as she pauses in front of the open doors. She wonders if he’s dead, too, or if he’s a special type of spirit. Maybe he’s death himself. Whatever the case, Julie isn’t going to stop to ask. She’d just be stalling.

She steps out of the bus and onto the pavement. The door shuts behind her. She’s barely made it to the sidewalk when the bus pulls away.  
Julie stands there, searching for Luke’s face in the windows. All she sees is dim silhouettes and an empty seat near the back. She desperately hopes that means what she thinks it does.

The city doesn’t seem so dangerous to her as she begins walking to her friend’s place. The noises in the shadows don’t bother her. The darkness itself seems to part in front of her.

Julie isn’t alone. There’s someone looking out for her from above.

She pauses in the middle of the street and looks upwards. She’s never been sure if her mother is really up there, but if there was ever a time she was listening, it’s now.

“Thank you, Mom,” she says. “Thank you for bringing him to me. Even if it was just for one night.”

Julie can’t deny that there’s a fresh new pain in her heart, but the healing that she's done tonight is so much more powerful than the new injuries. She doesn’t feel fragile like she has the last few months. She’s hurt, not broken. She’s stronger than before.

Julie has never felt the magic of the night as strongly as she feels it now.


	2. Epilogue

Julie stands at the bottom of the driveway, her arms crossed over her chest as she stares up at the small brick house ahead of her. Such an unassuming building, yet also so intimidating.

“Are you sure about this, Jules?”

She glances back to the curb, where her best friend Flynn is sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, leaning across the passenger seat to speak to her through the open window. Julie intends to keep her promise to Luke, so when Flynn came to pick her up from the airport she insisted on a detour before going home.

“Yes,” Julie says. Then, before she can lose her nerve, she begins striding up the driveway.

Julie hadn’t told anybody about her otherworldly experience on that night in New Orleans. How could she, when everyone would just call her crazy? Julie from a week ago wouldn’t believe herself, so she can’t expect anyone else to.

Besides, even if she thought anyone would believe her, she’s not sure she would tell, anyway. The magic of that night was so personal. The connection Julie felt to Luke was so powerful, so unique, and in a way so fragile - she feels that if she were to share it, the magic would disperse and drift away.

Some things in life lose their power when shared.

Julie reaches the door. She stands in front of it for a long minute, trying to figure out what to say. How does she explain the note in her hand or how she met Luke? She realizes belatedly that she should have been thinking about this before, but she doesn’t regret that she spent the last week thinking about other things - like Luke and her mom.

She’s still trying to come up with an excuse when the door suddenly opens inward. She takes a surprised step back.

“Hello?”

Julie stares at the man in front of her. He has silver hair and a wrinkled face - late sixties, she would guess. He’s wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a light-colored plaid shirt. He has kind eyes.

He doesn’t look like Luke, but that doesn’t deter her. Luke had said he was his step-dad, after all.

“Uh, hi. I’m Julie.” 

“Nice to meet you, Julie. Can I help you with something?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could help you.” She pauses, then says, “Did you have a son? Luke?”

He frowns. It’s a minute before he responds. “I did, yes. But that was many years ago.”

“I, uh, have something from him.” Julie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. “It’s a song he wrote. I think he would have wanted for you to have it.”

The man stares at her for a long moment. “Who did you say you were again?”

“Julie. Julie Molina.”

“I’m Mitch. Why don’t you come in?”

Julie shoots one last look back at the curb, where Flynn is watching from the car. Julie gives her a wave before turning back and following Mitch inside the house.

They step into a living room. It’s small and humble, like the rest of the house that Julie has seen so far. There’s an old sepia photo in a silver frame on the desk. Julie picks it up and stares at it.

“Is this Luke?” she asks, running her thumb over his image. Even though it was taken when he was very young, she could recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Yes.” Mitch smiles fondly. “That was when he was two.”

“Did you have any other children?”

He shakes his head. “No. Just Luke.”

Julie sets the photo back down gently. Though it’s an irrational thought, she wishes she could keep it. It pains her that she has nothing physical to remember him by. All she has is an hour’s worth of hazy memories in the back of a bus and a CD from his band.

There’s the sound of another set of footsteps and Julie looks up to see a woman with silver hair and eyes like Luke’s step into the room. She immediately goes to Mitch’s side, looking over Julie.

“I wasn’t expecting any visitors today,” she says.

Julie presses her lips together. “I’m sorry to intrude. I just had something to bring you.”

“Julie here has something of Luke’s,” Mitch explains. Both of them turn to look at Julie with eyes that are both sad and eager.

“I - uh, my mom was good friends with one of the boys from Luke’s old band,” Julie says. “I found this in a box of her stuff. It’s a song Luke wrote about a girl named Emily.”

Julie watches closely as the older woman’s mouth opens and shuts a few times. Her eyes shine, and she slowly reaches out. “I-I’m Emily.”

Julie hands her the sheet of paper. “I think he would have wanted you to have this.”

Emily takes the song and unfolds it with shaking hands. Mitch wraps his arm around her shoulders as they both read through it. Julie feels her eyes water as she watches them. It reminds her of the day the doctors told them that her mom was terminal. Julie had sat gently at the foot of her mom’s bed and confessed to all the things she’d done over the years. She wanted to get it all off her chest before it was too late. She’d been a weeping mess, desperately asking for forgiveness and apologizing. Her mother had sat up and reached out for her, holding her tightly against her chest and rocking back and forth gently, whispering “I love you” over and over again.

Julie knows it isn’t quite the same this way. Luke is gone and has been for years. But his words seem to have the same effect. Emily covers her mouth, trying and failing to hold in a sob. Mitch reaches up with his free hand and wipes under his eyes.

“I’m a musician, too,” Julie says when she’s sure they’ve finished reading the song. “Luke had a real gift. He may not have had time to make it big, but that doesn’t mean his dream wasn’t worth chasing. The music he created in his short time was beautiful and the world is better for having it in it.”

“Thank you,” Mitch says, smiling through his tears. “You have no idea what a gift this is to us.”

Emily hugs the song to her chest and leans heavily against Mitch’s shoulder. Julie clasps her hands together in front of her, having succeeded in her task but still feeling like there’s something she’s missing.

“Your mom was a friend of Bobby’s?” Emily asks when she’s recovered herself. Julie nods. Emily turns and opens up a drawer in the desk. “Here.”

She hands Julie a photo. Julie can tell that it was taken in this very living room, though many years ago judging by the newness of the furniture that is now worn and some of the decor choices. There are four boys on a couch, arms slung over shoulders, smiles on their faces. Julie recognizes a young Trevor Wilson sitting next to Luke. The two other bandmates, Alex and Reggie, are on the other side.

Although this photo was obviously taken a few years before Luke’s death - he appears to be about seventeen here - he looks almost exactly the same. He’s looking at Bobby, a wide smile that reveals his teeth stretching across his face.

“He looks so happy.”

“He was.” Emily smiles a little, looking at the photo. She turns back to the drawer and pulls out another one. It’s a wallet-sized photo, just of Luke. He’s actually looking into the camera in this one, his eyes shining the way Julie remembers them. The photo is from his waist up, the top half of his guitar visible in the bottom part of the frame. He’s wearing the beanie Julie had seen him wearing on the bus, just the curled up ends of his brown hair peeking out the bottom. He’s smiling again in this one.

The picture tugs at her heart in a physical way. Julie presses her lips together to try and stem the welling of tears in her eyes. She would do anything to see him like this - happy, without a care, doing what he loves. As remarkable as the version of him that she met was, it was only a shadow of who he once was - of who he could be.

Maybe it’s a good thing Julie never met this version of him. She doesn’t know if she could have ever let him go. She would have stayed on that bus forever.

“Can I...can I keep these?” Julie looks up at Emily and Mitch. She has no excuses prepared, no story that would make sense. 

Luckily they don’t ask. Emily nods and Julie tightens her fingers around them, feeling a surge of gratefulness. They will never know how much their son meant to her, how much he’s done for her even though she only knew him for such a short time and in such a strange place.

Julie heads back out to the car not long after. Mitch and Emily invite her to stay for coffee, but she doesn’t want Flynn to get worried.

Flynn perks up when Julie shuts the car door behind her.

“You were gone for a while. What happened?”

“I, uh, found something in my mom’s stuff that belonged to their son. It’s a long story.”

Luckily Flynn seems to understand Julie’s mood and doesn’t push for more information. Julie reaches into her back and pulls out the Sunset Curve CD Luke had given her. She inserts it into the CD player and turns up the volume.

The music is actually really good. Even Flynn, who prefers rap and pop, is nodding along her head to the shredding guitars and driving percussion. Julie leans back and closes her eyes, focusing on Luke’s voice. He’s a really good singer.

“What is this?” Flynn asks between songs. “It’s really good.”

“It’s an old band from the nineties. Trevor Wilson was in it before he became a solo artist.”

“Really?” Flynn shoots her an incredulous look. “He’s not the lead singer, is he?”

“No. That’s Luke. Trevor was the rhythm guitarist.”

“Just Luke?” Flynn raises an eyebrow. “You sound like you know him personally.”

Julie shakes her head. “He died years ago. That’s why Trevor became a solo artist. Everyone in the band except him died.”

“Damn.”

They drive in silence for the rest of the trip, listening to the Sunset Curve CD. The lyrics are just as good as the singing and the instrument playing. The boys were really talented. They would have all been famous if they hadn’t died so young.

Thinking about the music and about Luke hardens up Julie’s resolve. The connection that she felt with Luke still lives within her, glowing brightly as she listens to his music and warming her up from the inside. Flynn drops her off at her house and Julie heads straight for her piano, dropping her luggage inside the doorway without a care.

She had promised Luke that she would take the song to his parents, listen to his CD, and play music again. She’s about to fulfil her last promise to him. Her debt will be finished.

Somehow she wants to stay here forever. When she plays, her end of the deal will be over. She’ll have no reason to carry on the connection to him anymore. The part of her life with him in it will be over.

What a short, bittersweet part of her life it was.

But Julie promised she would play, and she intends to keep all her promises. She doesn’t want to end up like a lost ghost, cursed to ride around on a bus for all eternity. She was fortunate enough to get a warning in advance. Most people don’t get that.

She pulls the cover off her piano. There’s a song on the bench for her. Her mother had written it for her shortly before her death. Julie wasn’t strong enough to play it at the time. Now, as she looks over it, she knows there’s no force in the universe strong enough to keep her from playing it.

Julie plays piano for over an hour. There’s nothing more liberating than the feeling of the pearly keys underneath her fingertips, nothing more freeing than letting notes flow out of her throat, melodies and chords filling up space that has been empty for too long.

Julie is still sad when she’s done, but it’s not a crushing, heavy sadness. It’s a sweet sadness, the kind that inspires beauty and fuels nostalgia.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the photos Luke’s mom had given her. She sets them on her piano, next to a picture of her mother that she put there months ago. She may have lost them, but their spirit still lives within Julie when she plays music.

As long as she remembers them, they will continue to exist. And that is the truest magic of them all.


End file.
